The Life and Lies of a Megalomaniac
by Hectopascal
Summary: The sad fact about being the future ruler of the world was that, in the present, everybody and everything wanted to see you fail. On the other hand, if you succeeded, they all died in terrible ways. Hard choice, isn't it?


For the first time since he started this half-mad venture he questioned his foresight. Yes, he was determined to save the world. Yes, he had a vague idea on how to do so. And yes, he was willing to take life threatening risks to see it happen.

What he couldn't understand was how he had failed to remember that people unlike himself, unable to see the greater vision in all its beauty, were so very focused on material goods. Like money. Of which he had none.

Ergo, three long, hot, tiring… days after he left on his journey, he found himself without lodging, sustenance, or aid in a town with false aspirations of being a small city. In layman's terms, he was sleeping in an alleyway, freezing under a thin black coat, and having an internal debate on whether his pride was more important than digging through that auspicious garbage can for leftovers.

Five minutes later, he was chewing doggedly on a surprisingly warm piece of chicken (At least, he thought it was chicken. He may have been mistaken; it was an odd gray color) and rethinking his strategy.

Yes, he had a strategy. It was brilliant. Foolproof! Or it had been in his mind when he thought it up. It only needed a little tweaking. Or maybe a lot of tweaking. Or he needed a new one entirely. One of the three.

It was only natural that he write his new, awesomely awesome, plan down, which prompted more dumpster diving. He wasn't looking for more food, honest. Though that green thing over there in the corner looked edible. Just a small piece wouldn't hurt…

…or maybe it would.

An overworked employee of the general store hurried home after a grueling eight hour shift, three hours overtime. His name was – well, it's not really important. The point is, he had two kids and a screaming baby and if his wife didn't see him home safe before midnight he wouldn't get any action for a week.

What was it to him if a homeless guy was retching pathetically, on his hands and knees, in an alley at… he checked his watch, three a.m.? Three a.m.? His wife was going to kill him! He tossed a hundred yen coin at the homeless guy, considered it his good deed for the month, and quickened his pace feeling like a good citizen.

The coin bounced twice in the dark, rolling to a stop against worn shoes. The owner of said shoes paused, still dry heaving, and concluded that eating slime growing in a dumpster might have been one of his less than intelligent ideas. That rice looked okay though, maybe a little black but who was he to judge a grain by the color of its – its…grain?

In a stunning display of radicalism he grabbed a handful from an open trash bag and shoved it in his mouth. This was minutely harder than it appeared because the rice was unusually sticky, clinging to both his hand and the rest of the pile.

Forty five seconds later he was seeing the rice again, right next to the miscellaneous ooze, in fact, only a tad more moist. And chunky. And acidic…

Dear God, what was he doing? He was meant to bring about world peace not die from food poisoning in a grimy alley in some backwater town that wasn't on even the most detailed of maps. He could see it now.

"Hey, did you hear about that guy?"

"What guy?"

"That guy who wanted to rule the world or something, what's-his-face."

"Oh, yeah. I always thought he was a fruitcake."

"Everyone did."

"So, what happened to him?"

"We-e-ell, I hear that Kia's sister says that her boyfriend's dad's friend heard from a very reliable source that he kicked the bucket."

"Really?"

"Yep. Bit the dust, as it were."

"How?"

"I think the rice did it."

"No!"

"Yes. In Novel County, some place called Luz."

"…Where?"

He brutally slammed his forehead against a wall to stop the conversation. He hadn't eaten in days. He was having hallucinations. He was one more disembodied voice away from full blown hysterics. No need to panic.

He returned to rummaging through the garbage. He needed… something. He defiantly knew there was a purpose behind this. Maybe his plan was under that glob of noodles. No, no it wasn't. On the other hand, there was a wrinkled receipt listing a purchase of teriyaki beef and two bowls of vegetable cream soup. Some lucky bastard didn't know how good he had it. Shaking away the thought he snagged the edge of the paper, minimal sauce stains included, and dug deeper.

Maybe he could give up the search for a writing utensil and use the slime instead. It had to be good for something. If he took a stick and used it as a pen then maybe – pencil! Praise be!

An inch long stub stuck proudly from a black bag as if demanding rescue. It had probably been there for days, waning away while elegantly awaiting its – no. No, no, no. He was personifying a piece of wood. He had to have food. Not the rice or the slime. That would be a bad idea, a very bad idea. Maybe more mystery meat? He'd check later.

For now, the battle ground of the paper prepare to meet the infantry of the pencil! He scrawled in barely legible script across the top, _The Plan_. He frowned. It lacked a certain…pizzazz. Yes, he needed more pizzazz!

Crossing out _The Plan_, he wrote underneath, _The Steps in Increasing Importance in My Great Subtle yet Ingenious Plot to Bring the Long Fabled World Peace to this Country of War and Strife for Ninja and Civilians Alike._ He read it again. Seemed a little…obvious. And boring. More pizzazzed and boring. An oxymoron or a paradox. His mind wandered then snapped back to the present.

He tried again, _The Genius Plan_. No, he took one step forward and three steps back. How about, _The Secret Plan for Ruling the World_? Better, much better, but still, calling something secret just made it more tempting, didn't it? He had it in a flash of brilliance! _Operation Luna Eye._ The perfect title! He nodded to himself, satisfied. The foreign tone added pizzazz (stupid word that, pizzazz) and it was short, sweet, and to the point. He underlined it for good measure and then went about formulating the details.

Several minutes later he read it over. Crammed onto the back of a five by two inch scrap of paper was:

1) Rob unwary normal citizen.

2) Go to all-you-can-eat buffet.

3) Stop hallucinating.

4) Obtain strategic intelligence.

5) Return to all-you-can-eat buffet.

6) Ensure hallucinations do not start again.

7) Begin passive takeover of established group (someone gullible, youth gang?)

8) Manipulate leader of said group.

9) Install all-you-can-eat buffet at hideout (raise moral, prevent group unrest)

10) Reform group in own image.

.

.

.

?) RULE THE WORLD!

**A/N: Ahhh, another new story…how sad. Oh well. Because my compute is malfunctioning AGAIN, my wonderful friend DestinyCrusader is updating this for me. Hooray~**

**On a complete side note-I was six sheets to the wind when I wrote this, can you tell?**


End file.
